Sunday morning

All the girls were here last night and the Rocky Horror thing is becoming a weekly event. The sisters aren't speaking to each other, so they each bring a friend they are speaking to, and it goes fairly smoothly. So, it is a quiet morning, kids laying everywhere, forcing us to have breakfast at the kitchen table for a change. I slept in. I have been so sick, and am on the last dose of antibiotics now. I hope it passes soon. I have the kind of head cold that is alot like having one of those sand windows in your head, you know, the layers of colored silicone that shift like thick water trappepd between thin panes? The sludge moves with changes in elevation, like, if I bend over to pick up a towel, I stand up and spin for a minute. It isn't a bad or unfamiliar feeling. When I was a very young child I liked to spin around and around until I fell down. The whirlies, we called it. And just so you know, if you have children who truly enjoy the whirlies... its a bad sign. Its sort of the same feeling as when you mix wine with, say, tequila, and do that for awhile then lay your head on the pillow (or the floor, depending on your level of organization or where you find yourself landing for the night, or day) and the whirlies begin. Typically a precursor to puking in my experience.

Wow. what was that about?

Anyway, back to my head cold: it's kind of like breathing through a straw in a thick milkshake, there just isn't any air exchange.

Anyway, I'm sure there is alot to write about, but I really can't think right now. I am over the election. The hopelessness in the wake of all that is considerable, and I don't want encouragement or hope for the next guy. This is America. The land of the mediocre, home of the mundane. Maybe Prozac? It is depressing.